Guilt
by Charlotte Grim
Summary: PreRent. April wanted Mark out of the picture and she almost got what she wished for.


**Disclaimer:** I don't own Rent or the characters.

* * *

April _hated_ Mark.

Actually, April wasn't sure there was a word for how much she didn't like Mark.

It wasn't that she hated him for no reason. She had plenty of reasons. Mark was always holding Roger back from having fun. There were more than a few occasions where Mark convinced Roger to not stay out late or stay back at a club and shoot up. Also, it was a complete mood killer when Roger would look at his watch and say something like: "Shit, I should go before Mark freaks out and think I overdosed in an alleyway somewhere."

Yeah, real fucking romantic. She hated when it happened, especially when they were just getting started. Or rather, just when Roger got her jeans undone and his hand down her pants. She felt that she had a right to be angry. Roger was amazing in bed and she loved having sex with him. Then Mark would somehow be brought up and kill the whole mood.

She hated Mark and wanted him out of the picture.

She just needed to establish how.

* * *

When Mark came down with the flu, April hated him even more.

Roger seemed intent on looking after him for the first few days, to make sure that he was alright.

"He's a grown man, he can take care of himself!" April had argued. She was ready to burst out of her skin she needed a hit so badly.

"He's sick and you know how Mark is," Roger answered, "He's not going to take care of himself. Besides, he has a weak immune system."

"And how do you know that?"

"Benny told me. They used to live in a dorm together and when Mark gets sick, he really gets sick."

April caved and sat in the loft with Roger for four days, occasionally getting high when they had some time to themselves. But they still couldn't have sex. Roger thought it would be disrespectful to do something like that while Mark was sick in the next room.

_Way to ruin my fucking life, Cohen_, April fumed as she sat on the windowsill. She wanted so badly to just force him out of the loft and away from her boyfriend. Out of her life, for good. She had never known someone who infuriated her so much and she wasn't even that close to him.

"Hey, April," Roger's smooth, composed voice cut into her thoughts.

"Yeah?" she didn't look up, having felt ignored for the last few days. She was upset.

"Bobby said he had a party tonight, want to go?"

April perked up immediately at those words, but she frowned. "What's the catch?"

"No catch, babe."

"What? You don't want to bring Mark along or call him every few hours or--"

Roger silenced her with a deep and passionate kissed. He pulled away slowly, leaving her longing for more, "He's better now. He can get out of bed and take care of himself. He said so himself. He told me to take you out and have fun. He also told me to not come back until you were satisfied or he'll hold my most prized possession for ransom."

"What's that supposed to mean?" April asked.

Roger grinned, "I think you know what that means."

"Oh thank god!"

* * *

Two days (or was it three?) passed in a blur of euphoria, excitement, and a healthy amount of sex. April hadn't had days like that in a while and was really glad for the change. She was glad that Mark wasn't there. Then again, she was happy that Mark suggested that Roger pay attention to her. It was nice. And she found herself not hating him so much.

Though, she had to admit, she was annoyed when Roger insisted on calling the loft their first night out to check on Mark and to tell his roommates that he wouldn't be home. Collins had picked up the phone. It was surprising considering the fact that Collins always found a place to crash. He wasn't really home unless he had to be.

The next night, Roger did the same thing and Mark picked up. He told Roger the good news about Collins going to Massachusetts to look for a job at a few of the universities. He took up a good half hour of time that April thought should have been hers. She had sat in the corner of their friend, Bobby's, loft, pouting and smoking.

When Roger was done, he had sat beside her and lit a smoke of his own.

"He doesn't sound good." Roger said and April exploded.

"Why is he so damn important?" she had asked, "Why can't you pay attention to me when you're with me? I don't fucking understand you, Roger! You're supposed to be some rock god and you're letting some wimpy filmmaker replace your fucking mom!"

In her head, she thought viciously, _why can't he just die or disappear instead of ruining our fun!_

Roger had been surprised by her reaction, but after a little talking and some calming down, they reached a good medium. He wouldn't call the loft in the next twenty-four hours and pay attention to April on the condition that they go back the day after.

It was the day after and April was in a shabby bed, basking in the afterglow of a wonderful night with her boyfriend. Sunlight was streaming in through the window and she felt absolutely wonderful. She knew that they had to head back to the loft soon, but at the moment, as she snuggled closer to Roger's sleeping form, she hardly cared.

* * *

"Mark?" Roger called as they walked into the loft.

April's foul mood had returned. She really didn't feel like seeing or talking to Mark.

"Hey, buddy, you in here?" Roger called again as he stripped off his jacket. He gave a shrug, "Guess not."

Somehow April couldn't help but feel that something was really off in the loft. As Roger walked off, probably to change his clothes, she walked closer to the kitchen area and looked at the object that was on the metal table.

Mark's camera.

Even she knew the guy would never leave the camera in the loft if he were going out. Filming was Mark's life.

_Something's wrong_, she thought as a pang of guilt and, possibly, fear shot through her. Not sure of herself, she headed toward Mark's room. It was opposite of Roger's room, she would never be able to miss it. She peeked into Roger's room quickly. He was changing. Then she faced Mark's door. It was closed, though slightly ajar.

April pushed the door open and the sight that greeted her made her scream.

* * *

As she sat in the waiting room with Roger, April felt guilt wash over her. She had wanted some many horrible things to happen to Mark so that she and Roger could have fun, but when it happened it made her realize something. Even though she didn't like Mark much, Roger cared about him, a lot. Even though she didn't like Mark, he had been the one that told Roger to get her out of the loft. Even though she didn't like Mark, she remembered a time when she did.

When she first met him, he was like her best friend. He would talk to her when she got there too early to meet Roger and make her feel comfortable. He had given her money, well over fifty, to take Roger out on their first real date. He had remembered her birthday and given her a flower and got a cheap bottle of wine to pass around. He talked to her and assured her that things would be alright when Roger fought with her.

Watching the way that Roger paced with those worried eyes and tightly clutched hands, she realized that Mark must have done wonderful things for Roger too.

"Why don't you sit down, Rog?" April asked.

Roger slowly sat and took in a deep shaky breath, "I knew I shouldn't have left him alone. I knew he wouldn't take care of himself."

April placed a comforting hand on her boyfriend's shoulder.

"So fucking typical," Roger whispered.

April sighed, shaking her head. She couldn't close her eyes without seeing Mark lying on the floor, shards of a broken mug on the floor, tea spreading across the hardwood. She couldn't forget the way Mark sounded, his breathing so labored. The way he looked, his skin tinted blue and lips stained with droplets of blood. He could hardly even talk to them when they tried to make him more aware of their surroundings. They called an ambulance, not knowing what else to do.

_I shouldn't have wished for him to die_, she berated herself. Another voice in the back of her head taunted her. _Well, you got what you wish for. You should be happy._

* * *

"Mr. Davis, calm down before I sedate you," a young, handsome doctor told Roger, who had gotten to his feet the moment he walked out, asking a million questions.

April gave a weak smile as she placed a hand on Roger's shoulder, "Can you please tell us what's wrong with Mark?"

The doctor sighed, "Mr. Cohen was probably suffering from the flu and it advanced to pneumonia due to his weak immune system. It seems that he's also malnourished, which didn't help any with the process of healing."

"But he was getting better just a few days ago," Roger said, running a hand through his hair, "He said he was fine."

"Unfortunately, that wasn't the case. Right now we have him on a round of antibiotics at the moment. He's still having a little trouble breathing, but he should be fine. We want to keep him in the hospital for at least two or three days to monitor his progress. When he gets better, we'll send him home and the rest of his treatment can be done there."

"So, he'll be okay?" Roger asked.

"He should be fine. You brought him in just in time." the doctor smiled, "You can go and see him if you want."

"Thanks, doc."

* * *

"Hey," Mark greeted weakly from his hospital bed.

"You scared the shit out of us," Roger said as he pulled up a chair next to the bed.

April stood off in a corner, not sure she wanted to join in.

"Hey, April," Mark said, surprising her.

"Hi, Mark," she answered, "You feeling okay?"

The filmmaker shook his head, "We'll never be able to pay for this."

Roger gave a weak laugh, "Just shut up and get better."

There was a long silence in the room.

"So, did you do what I told you to?" Mark asked suddenly.

"What?" Roger asked.

"Did you do what I asked you to do?"

April watched as Roger rolled his eyes before answering, "Yes, Mark, I went out, had fun, and had sex with my girlfriend until she was satisfied. Happy?"

Mark gave a soft laughed, "I'm glad. She didn't look too happy to be stuck in the loft."

"I was fine, even if I couldn't get laid," April said.

"I'm still glad he took you out. You deserve to have fun."

And as the three continued to talk until Mark fell asleep. April thought that she really didn't hate Mark. She might not always like him, but she didn't hate him.

* * *

**Author's Note:** This isn't very typical of me to write, but I got this idea and I really wanted to get it out. I have a lot of different takes on April and this is one of them. Usually, she's a lot nicer than this though. At least in my head.

I hope you guys enjoyed this. Please leave a review and thanks for reading.


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